


Mike Babysits Six Losers

by anxiouss_princess



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is Drunk Except Mike, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging, Multi, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), drunk babysitting, drunk losers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22106554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiouss_princess/pseuds/anxiouss_princess
Summary: The losers decide to celebrate after they defeat Pennywise, but they may have gotten a little carried away in said celebrating. Mike has to babysit and keep an eye on all of them; how will he make it through the night? Especially with how chaotic Richie and Eddie are, he has his doubts that he even will.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	Mike Babysits Six Losers

Mike was starting to regret his decision to remain sober so he could look after these six drunken clowns. He already had one clown to worry about before—although yes, they did kill him. But still, he didn’t need _six more_ added to the list. 

Directly after they defeated Pennywise it was Richie’s idea to celebrate. The others seemed reluctant at first, but he finally convinced them with an, “Oh, come on… we could use the break. Be how we used to be.”

This earned a bittersweet silence that fell heavy over the room, sending all the other losers into their thoughts. Minds fluttering through all the memories that were still being freshly learned and seeping into them, telling them their stories. How the wind chased them as they evaded it like speed demons on their bikes, riding without a care in the world. 

Ben could still picture Beverly’s fiery warm hair that danced in the summer air. 

_January embers, my heart burns there too._

Richie could still hear Eddie’s fast paced voice, energetic and bubbly. Words fizzing from his mouth in such passion, his face morphing into different lively expressions as he spoke. It was a warm radiation that sizzled through Richie in a moment of giddiness. He wanted to hang onto every word Eddie said, as his voice was the source of the warmth buzzing through him and made his skin tingle. 

And of course, Mike never forgot about Bill. Never leaving Derry resulted in all of those memories forever with him, all hazy and worn out from those twenty seven years that had passed—but never forgotten. He remembered everything, but especially Bill. _Always_ Bill. 

Mike was technically the glue that kept the seven of them together. It may have been Bill when they were kids, but with Mike staying behind in Derry is when it all changed. He gave up any potential life he could have sought after, sacrificing it for his friends to be the one that remained. If he left no one would have been around to remember—and someone had to stay and keep watch, just in case.

With no one to remember they would have no connection to each other anymore, no way of knowing. They’d be left crawling aimlessly in the dark despite once, long ago, finding their way to the light— that part of them would be empty. They wouldn’t remember the warm dazzling sunlight that enveloped itself around them, pushing them together as one loving family during that summer twenty seven years ago. They would feel that they should know something, but they can’t quite grasp what it is… something that had once passed through their youthful eyes—eyes that were once filled with wonder. Now they’re just tired, after having seen too much throughout their forty years of living. 

They even told themselves, _there’s_ no fucking way _I’ll ever forget this shit in my goddamn life, no matter how much I even want to…_ and little did they know… 

Something deep inside of Mike always prevented himself to leave. He didn’t even want to – as soon as Bill said, _“swear, if it comes back, we’ll come back too,”_ … way back then he knew in that moment he had to be the one to stay. He didn’t even mind though. And he would do it again for the friends that he loved so dearly in a heartbeat.

The various vibrant and rich memories that were once lost coursed through them, playing in their minds like an old recording. Bright smiles lifted their tired faces without realizing as the collages of cheerful summer colors and young faces flooded their thoughts. “Alright, fine, Trashmouth. What do you have planned?” There was a hint of mischief mixed into the grin on Stanley’s face. 

༶ . ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ♛ ✧ ♛ ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ． ༶ 

Once Mike realized that no one was particularly going easy on their drinks he decided to just stick with water. He didn’t want anyone to end up in a ditch somewhere or get lost wandering out of Richie’s house (Richie suggested they all hang out and drink there for the night, resulting in Eddie saying, _“there better not be any weird shit inside your house like a big sex doll falling out of your closet, or I swear to fucking God...”_ ). This made everyone either laugh or roll their eyes. Mike couldn’t help but keep smiling, the lines on his skin crinkling by the eyes. His face was starting to hurt but he didn’t care. He missed this. He missed _them._

But Mike being the one to look after them all on a night like this should obviously not be a surprise, considering the good friend that he always was. The other losers always knew this undying loyalty that burned deep inside him and coursed through his veins. How much he loved and appreciated his friends, and how much _they_ loved _him_ in return too. 

Did Mike know that, though? He always had his doubts, his paranoias. Those creeping thoughts were like a looming shadow that casted over any possible pleasant ones he had. The shadows were always growing and spreading like wildfire or an uncontainable plague, making his head feel like it was bursting at the seams. So much negativity and suspicions swarming through each crack and corner of his brain that it gave him a migraine. The pressure of it was unbearable. 

Twenty seven years is plenty of time for good memories to be tainted. Tainted by paranoia and seeds of doubt that were planted out of nothing, at least nothing that Mike remembered. Maybe Pennywise had planted them a long time ago, and now that he was finally gone Mike didn’t know how to claw the damned things out of him. 

They were probably buried too deep at this point—the roots having grown so intricately that they were now a part of him, completely embedded. That was all Mike had ever known: worry and fear. Insecurity that he didn’t really want people to see. He wondered how he would feel without those emotions engulfing him in a gloomy fog that he could never really escape. He nearly did one summer years and years before. 

Maybe being there at Richie’s on this night was finally when he was going to find out what escaping that fog would be like. Or he could get a glimpse of that feeling of being with his six losers back in Derry when they were thirteen, now that they were all together as adults. 

Mike smiled fondly to himself as he thought about his closest friends that were now in the same room as him – still remembering who he is, remembering each other. Remembering _everything,_ and no forgetting. None of them had really changed all that much and were just how Mike imagined they would be when they were drunk, too. It kind of amused him, to be honest. 

Eddie became a lot more sassy and fiery when drunk. Drunken Eddie mixed with drunken Richie becoming more... well, _Richie_ — consider that a recipe for disaster. Mike assumed he’d probably have to keep his eye on them the most throughout the night. 

Beverly was in denial that she was even drunk the whole time despite the fact Mike clearly saw the evidence that told him otherwise. She seemed pretty dazed out, words slurring together and tangling up which formed her own new vocabulary that Mike would attempt to decipher. Her eyes never really fully focused on anything, more or less looking _through_ things. She was a very loving and goofy drunk too; could gush and compliment for hours about how much she loved a person. 

Ben— he was an emotional drunk. Everything made him cry and feel warm and schmaltzy. And mixing drunken Ben with drunken Beverly—when she moved to talk to him, deciding to tell him how amazing she thought he was… let’s just say there were a few tears involved. Ben simply loved all his friends so much and was thrilled they were all together again. Just being with each other made him beam with a powerful yet exhilarating sense of joy that struck him like a bolt of lightning. This feeling he’d experience while with them was so intense and jarring, it made him genuinely perplexed as to how he even forgot them in the first place. But then, the thought of forgetting them and having missed out on so much together set off a series of other various thoughts and emotions which made him start weeping again. Beverly pulled him into a hug, resting her head against his shoulder. Her soft red curls were delicately tickling his face and smelled like strawberries. He couldn’t help but keep questioning how he’d completely forgotten these wonderful people who were apart of his childhood, especially Beverly. 

_January embers, my heart burns there too._

The words echoed through his head like a song that kept repeating on a broken record. 

Bill was a clingy and needy drunk. He’d attach himself onto someone like a koala soaked in super glue and refuse to unleash his hold. If they try to escape, he’d just whine and stare up at them with his ridiculously adorable blue puppy-like eyes, making them only feel guilty for attempting to move. 

Now Stanley—Stanley was the easy one. He just got super sleepy and conks out, so Mike didn’t have to be as worried about him… hopefully. He’d definitely keep an eye on him like he would on everyone else though, obviously. And _hope_ Richie didn’t try and pull anything like drawing obscene things on Stan’s face while he slept on the living room sofa. Mike internally groaned and rolled his eyes at the thought of it because it was undeniably something Richie would pull. 

Mike didn’t even remember when the chaos initially started to increase and slowly get worse— it was probably after they finished dinner. They were all seated around the table one minute, and the next Mike was suddenly seeing Richie with a _fucking bowl on his head,_ poking Eddie in the cheek with a _fork_ as the shorter man visibly grew more annoyed. That was when he knew the night was going to be a giant cluster fuck. 

Eddie brusquely smacked the fork out of Richie’s hand, sending it flying back against the wall with a loud metallic clang. 

“Hey! What the _fuck_ dude? That was my _fork!”_ Richie complained as he went to reposition the bowl on top of his head. 

“Yeah, that you were sticking in my fucking _face,_ dickwad,” he reached for his own utensil and brought it to Richie’s face, “how would you feel if I started doing _this?”_ and now he was poking Richie on the side of his cheek. Unbelievable. 

“Guys— _cool it_ with the _forks,”_ Mike sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

When he turned his head he noticed Bill beside him down another drink, and Jesus what number was he even up to now? Mike wasn’t sure, he wasn’t keeping track. But he saw Bill’s face was flushed a rosy pink, cheeks splotchy and looking stained in different soft hues. When they finally locked eyes, Bill looked away immediately and started to giggle infectiously. _Oh boy._

Bill went to scoot his chair incredibly close to Mike, the wooden legs scratching against the floor with an ugly sound. Mike felt Bill’s arms coil around him, also resting his chin on his shoulder. 

Mike tried to ignore how adorable he looked— how he was just innocently looking up at him, face appearing young and soft as his giggling died down. “Mikey?” Bill’s chin slightly dug into Mike’s shoulder as he spoke, jaw shaping the words. 

Mike felt his insides jump at that special nickname that was only Bill’s to use. “Yeah?” 

“Hi.” He snickered some more as a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips. 

Mike laughed too, giving a light pat on the top of Bill’s head. “Hey, bud.” 

Bill’s smile widened as he tucked his face into Mike’s shoulder. His laughing intensified and Mike could feel Bill vibrating as he was snuggled up against him, and very tightly Mike might add. Like he was latched on for dear life. 

There was a loud crashing noise, and Mike’s mind immediately jumped to _Richie_ or _Eddie._ Christ. 

_Lo and behold_ when he tore his gaze from Bill and scanned the room, there they were... _smashing different inanimate objects with their silverware?!_

“Oh my god, what the _hell_ are you two _doing?!”_ the two men then stopped their activities; Richie spinning around so fast his bowl flew off his head. 

“Oh no, my _bowl!”_ he flung himself down at the floor, diving dramatically for the fallen object. This made Eddie reluctantly snort in amusement. 

_“Jesus._ Richie, don’t break your own goddamn shit... behave,” Mike brought a hand up to his temple, fingers rubbing tight circles into his skin. Bill looked at him with intent fascination as he studied his features. 

“Of course not, dear Mike. I am a fucking _angel,_ I would never,” he said as he went to pick up a fork and threw it in Eddie’s direction. 

“What the _fuck,_ prick?” Eddie retaliated and roughly snatched the same utensil that had just bounced off his shoulder. 

Eddie’s eyes were wide and piercing at first, but soon started to narrow at Richie as if zoning in on a target. Richie quickly raised his hands in a mock surrender, but to no use. The metallic fork clashed against the bowl on his head, knocking it off again and making an unpleasant noise that echoed through the house. Richie stared at the ground where the dish was with a look of mild annoyance contorting his features. 

“Stop…” Bill whined as he went to cover his ears with his hands. 

Richie rolled his eyes. “So, what, Ben and Bill are _both_ fucking pussies when hammered? Good to know, I’ll keep that in mind,” he slurred as he went to lean against Eddie, resulting in Eddie shoving him off and almost sending him to the floor. This made Bill giggle again. Mike couldn’t help but smile at the pretty sound. _Fucking shit, Hanlon— focus on the task at hand. Keeping these drunken goof-ball friends of yours under control._

Richie went to pick up the shining white saucer that was on the floor, deciding to then walk over to Bill and put it on his head now. Bill recoiled slightly from the action. 

“Noooo,” Bill moaned, burying his face into Mike further. 

“Dude you’re such a fucking baby.” Richie rolled his eyes. 

“Am not,” Bill’s voice is muffled into Mike’s shoulder as his arms tightened around him some more. Mike sucked in a deep and steadying breath, and Bill could feel his body expanding around his arms as he kept breathing, in and out. In and out. 

Richie then went to look at Mike, extending the dish towards him. Mike shook his head and smiled, positioning his hands in front of himself to reject Richie’s thoughtful little present. 

“I’m good, thanks though. That new hat you got going on is _all_ you my dude,” Mike chuckled, and Richie merely shrugged as he put it back on and sauntered back over to Eddie. 

Mike turned to Bill again, who then had seemed to somehow clasp onto him even snugger than before. “Hey bud, you wanna move and maybe get more comfortable somewhere else?” 

Bill shook his head. “No. I wanna be with you.” 

Mike’s heart did a little flip. 

_He’s drunk off of his ass right now, you could literally be anyone and he wouldn’t care._

He thought back to how he may have been a bit premature in his enthusiastic hug that he gave Bill in the beginning when they all had initially came back to Derry. He nearly scared the other man to death, tripping over himself to back away from him. Mike’s insides twist at the memory, trying to push it out of his head. 

“I have to keep an eye on everyone. Maybe would you want to go and cuddle with Beverly?” he asked, lightly nudging him. 

That’s who he liked. _Beverly._ They were all heart eyes for each other when they were younger, so that’s who he would really want to be gripping onto in that moment if he were in the right mind. Not Mike. 

Bill shook his head again. “Noooo... you.” His hold on him grew so tight it was nearly suffocating, but it also felt oddly nice. 

Mike tried to ignore that aching feeling suddenly emerging in the center of his chest. 

_The others, Mike… you have to keep an eye on the others too._

But then he saw that sweet, peaceful look on Bill’s face that made him never want to get up or even move a damn inch. His big blue eyes were full of adoring affection that kept scanning Mike’s features as if attempting to memorize every inch of his face. 

_The others._

Mike shook his head as if that alone would rattle the image of Bill from his mind, wishing to tuck it away for now and be able to pay attention to everyone. There was another loud noise, this time sounding like a whopping thud. It resembled something heavy colliding against the floor, making Mike internally wince and automatically thinking the worst—

 _Oh dear god someone fell head first and split their damn skull open,_ his mind screamed as his head whipped around to face the disturbance. 

He wasn’t that far off, as when he turned he saw Stan now on the floor with Richie standing directly over him. Richie suddenly burst into a fit of laughter, doubling over. “Oops!” 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Mike went to sit up immediately, his hands grabbing Bill to pull him off.

“Noooo,” Bill resisted, clutching onto him tighter. 

“Bill, buddy, you gotta move.” He tried to gently move Bill’s arms away from him, but he very much resisted. “Bill, _please,”_ Mike begged, sounding breathless and tired as his arms slumped down to his sides. 

“I don’t want to…” Bill’s voice was small and childlike, adjusting to nestle his face into Mike’s neck.

Mike sighed. “Bill I’m sorry, but I need to move you.” 

He scooped Bill up into his arms in a quick and fluid motion, much to the other man’s complaints and whines. Mike attempted very much to ignore the desperate pleas and attempts to grasp onto him, the tugging on his shirt. 

Mike walked over to a very confused Ben and Beverly who were originally talking amongst themselves, now their attention brought to this new scene unfolding before them. Mike ignored their looks and went to set Bill down directly beside Beverly. 

“No, no, no…” Bill was sounding more panicked now, as if Mike leaving would actually kill him. His eyes were starting to fill with tears, arms reaching out in attempt to reach Mike as he unattached himself and placed Bill on the sofa. 

“Bill, calm down, hey…” Mike grabbed a hold of Bill’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. 

“Don’t leave me, Mikey… _please…”_ his voice cracked, pleading eyes still full of unshed tears. Mike’s heart broke in half. He didn’t want to leave his side at all. He squeezed his hand, hoping to provide some form of reassurance. 

“I have to, ba… _Bill._ Richie needs more looking after than you do; he’s not trustworthy,” Mike chuckled, but Bill’s expression remained unchanged. 

Also, Mike didn’t know why he had the urge in that moment right before to call Bill _baby;_ it almost slipped off his tongue as if it were nothing—like it were a normal occurrence. It scared the shit out of Mike, and he thanked God that he caught himself before he fully slipped. That would have been mortifying. 

“Oh, for the love of _fucking God,_ Bill!” Richie’s loud voice was beside them as he shoved Mike away which made his and Bill’s hands disconnect. “You need to lighten the fuck up, dude. For real.” 

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed, still clearly looking distressed.

“Richie,” Mike warned. “Knock it off.” 

Richie rolled his eyes. _“Chillax,_ Mike—don’t let your panties get in _too many_ knots”. 

“Dude stop being such a fucking dickhead. Christ.” Mike could hear Eddie’s voice from across the room as he then started to walk over to them, looking mildly annoyed. 

“Why is everyone being so _mean_ to me? Damn…” Richie playfully whined as he stomped one of his feet childishly as he looked at everyone around the room. 

Beverly affectionately rolled her eyes as his eyes landed on her. “Honey, I do think you need to calm down a little bit. Okay?” She was rubbing Bill’s shoulders, who still looked teary eyed and distressed. 

“Now _this,”_ Richie announced enthusiastically, pointing right at Beverly, “is why Queen Bev right here is forever my best friend—she’s _never_ mean to me,” he walked forward and went to grab her hand, pressing a chaste kiss on it as she laughed infectiously, throwing her head back. Her red curls hung fell down the back of her shoulders gracefully.

An indignant sound then could be heard leaving Eddie as all heads went to turn to look at him. “What the fuck?! I thought _I_ was your best friend, dude!” He gestured wildly with his arms as the other losers went to look back at Richie, awaiting his response. “Fuck you!” 

Richie snorted, rolling his eyes as he waved a dismissive hand towards the other man who was now glaring angrily at him. “Pfft… I’m _in love_ with you, you damn moron—that’s completely different shit!” 

Everyone was then staring at Richie, mouths slightly agape, especially Eddie. “Wait, what the fuck?” 

Richie visibly faltered for a minute, face slightly heating up. “Oh wait… did I just say that _out loud?”_

Everyone slowly nodded at him, all eyes pinned on him. 

“I knew that was bound to happen sooner or later.” Stanley’s voice could be heard from where he was, lying down on the floor—wait, _when did Stanley wake up?!_

“But wait…” it was now Ben that was talking, “who’s _my_ best friend then?” 

“Well since Richie and Beverly are now besties, I’ll be your best friend Ben.” Eddie walked over and patted Ben on the shoulder as he spoke. Ben smiled.

“So, who’s mine?” Stan called out. 

Mike chuckled. “I’ll be your best friend, okay Stan the Man? Go back to sleep,” he replied. 

Bill visibly looked sadder, tilting his head as he looked over at Mike. “Mikey?” Mike walked over, kneeling where Bill was as he was still seated next to Beverly on the couch. “I’m not your best friend?” 

“Awe,” Beverly laughed, but it wasn’t mocking; it was filled with affection and warmth as she petted Bill’s silver streaked hair. “Sweetie…” she nuzzled her head against his. “Of course you’re his best friend, he was just saying that to make Stan feel better.”

Bill turned to Beverly; eyes full of wonder. “Really?” he asked, looking back at Mike again. 

“Did you see me _hug-attack_ anyone else?” Mike snorted, making Bill also smile in response as his cheeks tinged pink. He shook his head as an answer to his question. “Then there you go,” he said, patting Bill’s leg. 

_“Aaaand_ Richie and Eddie are now kissing,” Ben announced, resulting in Beverly lightly hitting him in the shoulder. 

“Are we _really_ that surprised?” Stan again. 

Mike whipped his head to the direction of Stan’s voice. “Dude, I thought you were going to go back to sleep.” 

“And miss all this fun? Never.” 

“I honestly thought it would have happened a little later in the night,” Beverly added to the conversation, looking at Ben, “them kissing, I mean.” 

Mike rolled his eyes. “What were you all taking bets or something?” 

“More or less.”

_“Stan!”_


End file.
